The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1887-09-14
A SPARR0W'S NEST.
EY MARY z. WILKINS.

thing will turn out all right"
''rhat's what you say. don't see my
self what's to hinder our being turned
out on the street, if the rent isn't paid in
two weeks"
"Why, mother, you know Mr.. King
wouldn't do such thing as that He
would wait little while. He has always
been real kind"
"People can't wait forever"
"Now, mother, don't sit here and wor
ry about that all day."
81 can't helpit. It's nothing but wor-
ry all the time, as far as can see."
''Well, there isn't any use in it. Per-
haps shall get the Elliot School, who
knows?" Sarah said, laughingly.
"You won't. You might have, if Flor
ence Benton thought as much of you as
she pretended to once. Judge Benton
could get the place for you by lifting his
little finger. But that's always the way,
the poorer any one is and the more she
needs it, the less she has done for her."
"You're all discouraged this morning,
mother. Now don't sit here and fret and
make yourself sick. I've left everything
"hOie Soo Sou gun, auo IL SoihC AoIho
early and bring something nice for sup
per. What do you want:"
II don't want anything" sighed her
mother. Sarah Mayhem stopped and
kissed her, then she hurried away. 1t was
high time that she did. She had mile
to walk to her school, and it was already
half-past eight.
It was raining very hard when she
stepped ut-of-doors. All the green tree
boughs tossed in mist, and the grasses
bent over, they were so heavy with rain
drops. The moment that she opened
the door, she could hear the great roar
of the river at the east. 1t was very
high.
When she came to the Elliot School
hous: she looked at it longingly. 1t was
noble brick building, and accommodated
several graded schools. There was short
ly to be a vacancy in the corps of in
structors; the assistant principal of the
grammar school had resigned, the resig-
nation to take effect at the close of the
present term. Sarah had re:olved to ap-
ply for the position, which meant six
hundred dollars year, and the ability to
hire pretty little tenement for herself
and mother, which stood vacant near the
school house.
Just after she passed the Elliot School
she met Florence Benton. There was
strange young lady with her, probably
some school friend, she thought to her
self. She knew that Florence was home
on vacation; she attended boarding
school in neighboring city.
The two girls in their pretty gray wa
terproofs came tripping along, laughing
and talking in the rain. They held a
silk umbrella between them airily. Flor
ence's checks were lovely pink from
the damp, fresh wind her dark eyes
were radiant. She nodded in a gay,
careless way to Sarah, as they passed,
and did not stop talking to her friend.
Sarah plodded on, damp and shabby,
her resolute face pale. This was the first
time she had seen Florence since her re-
turn from school they had been gradual
ly drifting apart for two years, but this
was the farthest drift of all. Florence
had always stopped and greeted her
pleasantly, although she rarely visited
her nowadays. Sarah had told herself,
many time, that it was all natural
enough, and that Florence was not to
blame. They had been almost like SIS
tiers when they attended the village school
together. Sarah had been at home in
Florencc's house, and Florence in hers
but now, of course, it must be different
Florence was in city boarding school,
She was forming new acquaintances with
girls who were of her own social stand
ing. She could not have as much in COM
mon with Sarah Mayhem, and Sarah
Mayhcw ought not to expect it nor feel
hurt.
As she went on, the roar of the river
grew louder; the road curved more and
more in its direction. Sarahs little
school-house, which was in an outlying
district of the village, was peculiarly
situated. 1t stood in a meadow in an
angle formed by the junction of a brook,
known as STONY Brook" with the
river. The brook was an inconsiderablc
stream, although it worked a grist-mill,
and boasted of dam two miles above
However, the flood Of to-day would
swell the tiniest rill, and Sarah, as she
drew near her school house, could hear,
the little angry song of ne brook beside
the roar of the river.
She doubted if she would find pu-
pill there, the nearest lived half mile
away; but eight were assembled, five
boys and three girls. The oldest boy
was nine, the youngest girl five. Her
name was Bessie Morton; she was a
pretty, black-eyed little thing. She
had come under the guardianship of her
older brother, but Sarah wondered how
her mother had happened to let her.
Sarah built fire in the little box
stove, so the children could dry their
wet clothes, then she begun the usual
exercises of the school. 1t seemed almost
farce with this number of pupils, but
Sarah was punctilious in the discharge of
her duties; and, moreover, the school
committee and the parents of this dis
trict were somewhat exacting. Sarah
knew that, if they sent their children to
school, they would expect them to be
regularly and faithfully taught.
1t was half an hour before noon. Sarah
was about to call the scholars out on the
floor to spell when suddenly they began
whispering excitedly. She thumprd her
ruler upon the desk, but they paid no at
tention. A boy near the window had
arisen aSd was looking out, and gesticu-
lating wildly. All at once the other chill
dren left their seats and rushed toward
him, pressing wildly up to the window.
Sarah brought her ruler down on her
desk apain